The Interloper
by Thorntons
Summary: Not everything is as it seems when a stranger enters the bullpen, and with Jane strangely out of sorts he struggles to solve the puzzle.


A/N Little attempt at realism, just a bit of midsummer madness.

* * *

 **The Interloper**

There was a slightly peevish air to Brenda Schettrick at the best of times, but on this occasion she had every reason to be irritated, with Bertram landing this new initiative on her just as she was about to leave on vacation for a couple of weeks. An all expenses paid trip to New York beckoned, courtesy of the grateful recipient of a timely tip off. She shrugged off any vestige of guilt, after all what good was power and influence unless you could monetise it? The finer things of life cost money, and God knew the CBI weren't going to fund her forays into high society.

No doubt some Congressman's wife had batted her eyelids at Bertram at some highfalutin shindig, and got him to agree to this new age crap about promoting harmony in the workplace through yoga and contemplation.

Now Schettrick was expected to come up with some ' _bold and innovative way'_ of paying lip service to this hippy claptrap, without actually changing anything. Yada yada yada, call it what you like it was just the same old stuff by a different name, and as always Bertram wanted it all done on a shoestring budget.

Usually Schettrick would just recycle some old report, after all plagiarism saves time, but she had neither the time nor inclination. Uncharacteristically she dug her heels in; despite rumours to the contrary she had a backbone after all. Schettrick informed Bertram's PA in no uncertain terms that she was packing up at 5 o'clock sharp, and they'd better send someone down to help.

As time went on still no one appeared; Schettrick glared belligerently at the offending file on her otherwise clear desk. Despite assurances that a young intern was on his way, Schettrick remained unconvinced and she started to empty her desk in anticipation of a speedy departure. The little luxuries she'd treated herself to at lunchtime were secreted at the side of her desk, with her strategically placed handbag obscuring the Victoria's Secrets bag from prying eyes. Her Wal-Mart essentials simply wouldn't cut the mustard in a top flight hotel.

Her fingers played irritably on her desk as she awaited the arrival of the promised intern. She looked up hopefully as the elevator doors opened to reveal a lanky young man emerging. Looking anxiously over his shoulder, he hurried down the corridor before barging into her office unannounced, at the sound of raised voices in the distance.

Getting entangled in her bags he ended up in a heap in the floor, with her newly acquired lingerie strewn all around him. In her hurry to retrieve her prized possessions, she paid scant attention to the sound of people racing through the bullpen, more intent on hiding her garments from prying eyes.

Schettrick rolled her eyes despairingly, was this really the best Bertram could do? They were depriving some village of its idiot. She watched as he lay prostrate on the floor, peering up nervously, in no hurry to explain himself. "It's customary to introduce yourself before entering. Anyhow what kept you?"

He looked up at her with a confused look on his face. Schettrick shook her head disparagingly, where on earth did they find these interns? This one had crept into the gene pool when the lifeguard wasn't watching.

Still what the hell it was Bertram's problem. Schettrick took the file from her desk and held it out imperiously as she waited for the young man to get to his feet. He dusted himself down to buy himself some time to get his thoughts together, while looking apprehensively around him as if unsure of his bearings.

Impatiently Schettrick pushed the file in his hands. "It's all in there. Any problems call Bertram's office, the numbers are there." She jerked her head toward the bullpen. "Just ask them where to go to get processed." Without another word Schettrick locked her desk and turned on her heel, leaving the perplexed young man alone in her office.

He licked his lips nervously as he cased the joint, so far so good, at least the coast seemed clear for now. A trace of a smile crossed his lips, oh the irony of it hiding in a cop shop. Gaining some confidence he flicked open the file and read the abstract, no problem he could do this sort of thing in his sleep.

A rather formal looking young man, with hair neatly side parted and slicked to the one side, tapped nervously on the door. "Teddy Westlake reporting for duty. Sorry I'm late, the traffic was hell. My details are all in here." After perusing the file with all the relevant forms, the interloper sternly addressed the intern. "Sorry you're too late, this position is filled. Let this be a salutary lesson about the importance of good time keeping. Try again next year. Don't worry about the paperwork I'll deal with that."

Gathering his wits about him, he looked out to the bullpen. The glamorous redhead looked the most promising starting point. The tall gormless looking one stood up, hands on his hips, watching his approach. "What's up dude?"

 _Ok, he thinks I'm a punk, this should be fun._

* * *

There was very little that escaped Patrick Jane's finely tuned antennae, which sifted and sorted all incoming signals, lodging anything that seemed out of the ordinary in a holding place for future reference, and consigning anything remotely resembling dogma or pettifoggery to the recycle bin. Random facts floated around in the primordial soup of his memory, just waiting to be claimed by some caprice of his wandering mind. Like some complex fugue of recurring sequences gradually a pattern would begin to form, and eventually out of the chaos order would emerge.

However on the very rare occasions something unbalanced the equilibrium of Jane's mental processes, it caused the synapses to misfire warping his perceptions of reality, sending out confused messages at times and causing no end of problems for Lisbon.

Jane's musings had been interrupted several times in the course of that afternoon; firstly there was the sound of someone running through the bullpen. Shortly afterwards a flustered frat boy passed by, clutching a City Hall Folder to his chest, only to be seen trudging disconsolately back in the opposite direction some minutes later, sans folder.

The geometric precision of his hair parting amused the consultant, and subconsciously Jane ran his fingers through his artlessly arranged hair tweaking its randomness, as if in an attempt to redress the entropy of the hair universe. When some minutes later a newcomer appeared carrying that same City Hall folder, Jane's curiosity was piqued, knowing there was no such thing as coincidence.

Jane raised an inquisitive eyebrow in Cho's direction, an economic shrug of the shoulder indicated Cho knew no more than Jane did. There was something about the newcomer that interested Jane, despite his studied insouciance a keen mind lurked behind the facade. It was obvious from the outset that he was calibrating Van Pelt and Rigsby's reactions before deciding the best course of action. The named brand clothing told little of his background, but the well manicured nails spoke of someone not used to manual work and hinted at an interest in their appearance. It was hard to tell whether the stubble was an attempt to look edgy or lapsed grooming, but it added another layer of interest to the striking features of the young man.

Van Pelt smiled helpfully and Rigsby instinctively took a step closer to her, as they waited for the young man to speak.

"Hi I'm Eddie Westlake. City Hall says it wants to give kids like me a helping hand with this diversity initiative, but then this crazy woman Schettrick announces she's off on vacation and just shoves a folder in my hand, and tells me to get on with it. Ain't no way to treat a dude. She should show more respect." The man now going by the name of Eddie scowled truculently, casting himself as the victim of the system.

Ever helpful, Van Pelt smiled brightly and opened his folder to see what was going on. She raised an eyebrow at the proposed initiative, knowing the others would dismiss it as new age goop."Hey, Cho have you heard about this initiative promoting yoga & meditation as a mean of relieving workplace tensions?"

"News to me." Cho never lifted his eyes from his papers.

Rigsby snorted. "Cho looks like he's in a trance at the best of times, it'll be hard to tell the difference."

The newcomer looked distinctly nonplussed by it all.

Jane listened to proceedings with interest, even if he didn't buy into the yogic experience, he appreciated the benefits of quiet contemplation and mindfulness. He glanced up at the sound of Lisbon's door opening, unusually she'd closed the door to take the last phone call. She stretched her back and moved her neck from side to side trying to relieve the pressure of the knotted muscles, prompting Jane to reflect that if ever a person needed relaxation techniques, it was Lisbon.

She checked the newcomer over with a clinical eye, her lips pursued in deliberation before approaching him. Although Eddie towered over her diminutive frame, he immediately recognised her authority from the reaction of the others. It was left to Van Pelt to do the introductions and explain Eddie's plight. Lisbon grunted in irritation at the thought of yet more paperwork, but a smirk passed over her face when she read Eddie's brief. She quickly signed the prerequisite forms telling Eddie to go to HR for processing, before disappearing in search of a caffeine fix, muttering "Yoga my ass."

As if prompted by her words all eyes subconsciously lowered in appreciation of the poetry in motion of her retreating form, only to be brought back to the present by Van Pelt's slightly irritable cough. Cho raised his eyebrows and swallowed hard, repeatedly flicking the band on his wrist to dismiss any inappropriate thoughts.

By now Eddie was finding it hard to credit that the 'I' in CBI stood for intelligence, it felt more Keystone cops than intelligence agency.

Revitalised by her fix, Lisbon made a bee line for Jane's sofa. When the kick of the sofa failed to penetrate his Zen like calm, the book was unceremoniously snatched from his hands. Refusing to rise to the bait, Jane just stared at the ceiling contemplating Elvis and the reasons for Lisbon's ill humour.

Without moving his eyes he began to muse out loud. "You'd be surprised at the benefits of mindfulness Lisbon, it restores balance to the soul. It helps you reconnect with your body and mind, to experience the here and now, and become more at one with the present. Allowing you to appreciate the sensations around you, and to be more aware of your thoughts and feelings as they happen." Becoming distinctly aware of her rising ire, he flicked his tongue over his lips to suppress a burgeoning smile. "Only by standing back from our thoughts, can we realise when destructive traits are governing our actions. That damaged intensity of yours is just a manifestation of the anger that eats away at you. Somehow you need to learn how to channel those feelings into positivity. Peace and harmony is the way forward Lisbon, peace and harmony."

"Jeez did people really believe this crap? You're so full of it." Lisbon rolled her eyes incredulously.

"People will pay for hope in their lives Lisbon, and believe me I've sold it by the gallon. Hope is being able to see a chink of light despite the darkness. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that." He added somewhat wistfully, for all his travails the green shoots of hope had never been entirely extinguished.

"Oh save it for some gullible mark." Lisbon snarked dismissively. "Anyhow get your coat on Sherlock, there's work to do."

* * *

In their absence Eddie had made himself at home at the spare desk, and was the proud owner of a new laminate complete with photo. He was official now, ergo he existed. Though no one knew exactly how he was spending his time, he strode around purposefully carrying his clipboard, flitting from floor to floor, always managing to look busy without ever doing anything. His prolonged absences did not go unnoticed by Jane, though a flurry of computer activity ensued on his return. A series of unhealthy snacks seemed to keep him going, and with Jane-like efficiency he sniffed out any free food on offer, happily scarfing the birthday cake of the young clerk he'd charmed just 5 minutes earlier.

Dividing his time between the floors and units, Eddie acquired a steady stream of admirers, his chameleon qualities allowed him to transform into whatever people wanted him to be. Of course that was not without its problems, he soon had to fend off the unwanted attentions of both sexes, especially the cougars who wouldn't take no for an answer. Accustomed to living on his wits, Eddie always had a ready excuse to make his escape, although he seriously began to wonder if they needed to put something in the water, the whole place was a hot bed of unrequited desire.

He soon ingratiated himself in with Cho and Rigsby, playing 'the dude' to live down to their expectations. As a wind up he would rap about life in the ghetto, moving from side to side as he typed up his report on his computer. To his great amusement he noticed Cho and Rigsby both synched their movements to the rhythm of his words. Yet for all the control he exercised on the people around him, he was aware of one particular pair of eyes trained on him. The one person who hadn't fallen under his spell was Patrick Jane. For some reason they just circled each other, two alpha males weighing each other up, content to just observe so long as their territories didn't overlap. A few discrete enquiries at the water cooler had soon revealed Patrick Jane's story, it confirmed Eddie's instincts that this man was best avoided.

For Jane's part his sleep deprived brain was struggling to solve this enigma, increasingly complex explanations were formulated and discarded, quite forgetting the principle of Occam's razor. Beset by a worse than usual case of insomnia, which no amount of pill popping could remedy, Jane abandoned his motel room and had taken to roaming the CBI buildings at night. He needed something to counteract his overactive mind, and as much as he tried to distract himself by watching the Discovery Channel, he just could not settle in his sterile motel room.

He'd tried crashing out on his sofa; the buzz of activity from the passing night shift workers affording a degree of comfort, but then Haffner's men started playing silly pranks on him and hid his shoes. Their actions were duly noted but not forgotten, Jane was a patient man and retribution would follow when they least expected it. In the end he sought sanctuary in Lisbon's office, locking the door behind him and drawing the blinds closed.

Even if he couldn't always sleep there was something comforting about being able to nestle into the cushions of Lisbon's sofa, the faintest trace of her scent had permeated the very fabric of the sofa. It was strangely reassuring to take refuge in Lisbon's domain, feeling unassailable from his demons in this fortress. Jane was safely tucked away in the corner of her office, well away from prying eyes.

Well that is if you didn't count Jane's prying eyes. Naturally he took every opportunity to abuse her hospitality, and explored every nook and cranny of Lisbon's office, although it was disappointingly devoid of anything too personal. He buried his face in the blanket, and smiled at the recollection of those photos of rookie Lisbon he'd found. Tomboyish and cute as a button with her tie slightly awry, what she lacked in physical presence was more than made up for by her pout of determination.

Gradually the effect of the pills he'd popped lulled him into a drug fuelled stupor, but his respite was short lived. His slumbers were rudely interrupted by a faint purring sound that entered his consciousness; blearily he lifted his head up not believing his ears at first, and peered through the blinds. His eyes shot wide open. Well this was different someone was sleeping in Goldilocks' bed for a change.

Umm, it was a conundrum. What to do? He didn't want to give away his own hiding place, so he tried to go back to sleep in the hope that the intruder would move on, but that gentle purr had turned into a full blown jackhammer snore.

Well if Jane couldn't sleep he was damned sure no one else was going to, and he dialled Van Pelt's phone extension. The interloper just groaned and pulled the cushions over his head to drown out the noise until the call went to voice mail. Jane harrumphed and repeated the exercise, not allowing the uninvited guest to settle back into his slumbers. After a few choice words they dragged themselves up and shuffled away in search of a new resting place.

By now Jane's hopes of sleep had all but vanished for the night, it was the worst of both worlds still sluggish from the after affects of the sleeping tablets and tired through lack of sleep, Jane was hardly firing on all cylinders. Over the course of a few days he became increasingly aware that this wasn't an isolated incident, and he wasn't the only one inhabiting the buildings at night. The sound of running water in the shower block, confirmed that Jane was not the only nocturnal visitor. The light of the fridge opening in the dead of night would be followed by complaints about missing food the following day. Naturally suspicion fell on Rigsby, who vehemently protested his innocence. Odd items of generic clothing went missing from the men's lockers, someone was making themselves at home in the CBI.

Jane stalked his prey and saw him disappear up a rarely used staircase that led to an attic. Surprised he hadn't noticed that before, Jane resolved to return there in daylight when the coast was clear.

Choosing his time carefully, Jane smiled wryly at the sight of Eddie fending off the advances of the mail guy this time. Poor Lisbon, it seemed that everyone she set her sights on was either unavailable or batted for the other side. Determined to investigate further, Jane took a quick look round to make sure no one could see him, before creeping up the stair case and sliding open the wooden door. The old store room had been transformed into makeshift living quarters. Well this was nice. Jane ran his fingers along the desk approvingly, picking up Cho's misplaced novel, Crime and Punishment how fitting. The windows opened out onto a small balcony where a variety of clothing had been left out to dry. Jane was annoyed that he'd missed this hidey hole it was the perfect retreat.

Jane couldn't believe the rest of the team hadn't noticed what was going on, but he felt no inclination to bust Eddie, preferring to watch and wait. The team seemed to take it in turns to leave snacks on Eddie's desk, if Jane didn't know better it would seem organised. Lisbon studiously seemed to ignore the young man in their midst, as if he didn't exist. A slight jauntiness to her step suggested she had a secret, perhaps a new admirer now the mailman had bitten the dust. Jane was irritated that he couldn't work it out, come to think of it the whole team seemed to be acting strangely these last few days, Cho's enigmatic smirk was really getting to him.

Matters finally came to a head when a phone call sent Lisbon rushing out into the bullpen, with her hand on her holster, she quickly mustered her troops to attention. The elevator opened and on seeing the occupant, Lisbon jerked her head and hissed _now_ to Van Pelt. On cue Van Pelt grabbed Eddie, enveloping him in her arms as she devoured his face, such was her devotion to duty that she was oblivious to the mysterious looking character passing slowly through the bullpen. Any initial resistance on Eddie's part was soon overcome and he responded enthusiastically – he was only human after all and Van Pelt was undeniably gorgeous.

Jane's jaw dropped as the scene played out before him, what the hell was going on? He heard Lisbon's voice in the background. "It's alright now Van Pelt you can put him down. For Christ's sake Grace, stop tampering with the evidence!"

Reluctantly Van Pelt released her conquest licking her lips like the cat that had gotten the cream, leaving half her lipstick smeared over Eddie's face.

Lisbon looked at Jane's incredulous face. "What? You think you're the only one who knows what's going on. We're detectives! The witness to the murder of a gangland boss, slips protective custody in the vicinity of the CBI, and suddenly a string of dubious characters start appearing in the CBI and you think we're incapable of putting two and two together?"

She turned her attentions to Eddie. "And next time you want to impersonate someone just make sure it's not Mayor Westlake's nephew."

She looked from Eddie to Jane. "Sometimes you guys believe your own publicity, and underestimate everyone else around you, maybe you just outsmarted yourselves on this occasion."

She was nearly in her office when she turned back for one last strike. "And if you're going to sleep in my office Jane use your own cushions – there's hair gel all over my cushions."

Jane harrumphed, annoyed at being outsmarted by the rest of the team. His thoughts were interrupted by the noise of Haffner's unit leading an uncooperative suspect back through the bullpen, who stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Eddie – "You! I'll get you if it's the last thing I do."

As Eddie was led away into protective custody, he exchanged a curt nod with Jane. Jane coughed and pointed to his cheek, Eddie lifted his hand to feel the sticky lipstick residue on the side of his face, he just shrugged and grinned. It was the sum extent of their interactions.

* * *

Schettrick was hardly in the best of moods when she returned to work, her so called high class hotel turned out to be the hunting ground of some not so high class hookers. After days of daintily perching on her stool sipping her Manhattan without a flicker of interest, she was finally propositioned by a young man called Luther who sidled alongside her and slipped $25 across the bar. Twenty five dollars! She was worth more than that! Still it was the only action on offer, so she pocketed the money, after all beggars couldn't be choosers. Just her luck to find a mewling mama's boy with an Oedipus complex, her therapist was going to have a field day with that.

She glanced across her desk and saw the neatly bound copy of the intern's report on her desk, she pushed it to one side, as if that was ever going to see the light of day. Pressing her lips together in a grimace she started sorting through the accumulated mail. Schettrick sighed wearily when she saw Bertram's name flash up on her phone.

"Ah Brenda." Bertram's voice rang out. "Good to have you back. I must say that report you sent me was bold."

Schettrick swallowed hard. "Bold?"

"Just what we need a bit of leadership from the front." Bertram was full of enthusiasm.

Schettrick eyed the report suspiciously – for someone who had perfected the art of leading from the back that sounded ominous.

She didn't have to wait long for the hammer blow to fall. "Congressman Walker's wife was so impressed that she's agreed to donate yoga mats to the department, and is going to join your first class at lunchtime. I must say Brenda I had no idea you were so supple."

Before she had time to answer Bertram rang off. Supple? She could barely touch her toes these days. She narrowed her eyes and glared at the offending folder before extending a slightly arthritic hand out to reach for it.

* * *

In contrast, Jane couldn't be more relaxed as he laid out his possessions in order. Tea, kettle, fresh water and a sundry collection of books. A brand new pair of piped pyjamas was folded on the chair next to his makeshift bed – after all a man had standards to keep up, it wouldn't do to be caught unawares.

Jane surveyed his humble abode with satisfaction, feeling more at home than he'd done for a while. He lay down on the makeshift bed and closed his eyes, and then he was gone..

Lisbon tentatively popped her head round the door, not knowing quite what to expect. She smiled benevolently at the sight of Jane in dreamland. Good that was another problem solved, she could start moving her things back into her office again.


End file.
